Help Homeless Kids – How?

Change.org wanted me to know about April’s story:

Last summer a young woman named April was found dead, wrapped in a blanket and dumped naked behind a church in New York City.

Just the day before, April had been staying at a crisis shelter for homeless youth run by our partner Covenant House, located just two blocks away. A poster offering a reward for any information regarding her murder still hangs on the front door of Covenant House, unanswered.

We still don’t have much information about April’s anonymous murder, but her fate is tragically common.

They go on to explain that every year, roughly 5000 American youths die on the streets, homeless and vulnerable. Many of them get sucked into a lifestyle of illegal activity, preyed upon by pimps and drug dealers. My heart breaks for April, and for all the other young people who are on the streets.

Change.org offers up a petition for us to sign asking the government to address the issue of teen homelessness. In part, it reads:

I am writing today because we all need to do more to end teen homelessness and to end the senseless deaths of children on the streets. We need more resources, more attention, and prioritization of this problem in Washington in order to end the violence. Will you help? Will you redouble your commitment to keeping our children safe and join the effort to end teen homelessness once and for all?

Wait, what?

The petition tells the government to do something to end teen homelessness. But what? It’s not specified. Nobody seems to know exactly what we ought to do to make sure teens are safe from homelessness. And how can we tell when our petition has been acknowledged and answered? The request for “more resources, more attention, and prioritization” is so vague, it’s tantamount to asking for nothing beyond noticing the problem. We’ve made a request for change, but we haven’t even begun to consider exactly what we might do to make change  possible.

A system that thinks it knows what's best for teens in every situation leaves homeless youths feeling trapped and powerless. (Image courtesy of Committee to End Homelessness in King County.)

Teen homelessness is a tricky situation. Homeless teens may often be kids who’ve run away from home because of some kind of trauma, an abusive situation, or even just to assert their independence. Has anybody gotten so far from their teenage years that they’ve forgotten the importance of “freedom” to the teenage mind? It’s how teens are built. Some teenagers probably consider life on the streets preferable to what they faced at home . . . and many of them, chillingly, will be dead right from any angle. Not everybody who has a kid is a good and worthy parent. That’s the terrible reality.

But the foster care system isn’t always much of a solution. Research also shows that many “young adults” – those aged 18-20 – find themselves homeless once they get too old for the foster parents program, and lack the support and connections to create an independent household. And if the foster system leaves younger teenagers powerless and unable to advocate for themselves, it’s no surprise if many young people would rather go it alone on the streets. Teens are hard-wired to strive for independence, and that’s a good thing: they’re preparing to enter into adulthood, and that drive for independence helps them separate from the original family and construct their own experiences.

It also means that a controlling, paternalistic system of “homelessness management” is going to turn a lot of kids off. So will the wording of the petition that calls them “children on the streets”. We can’t help homeless teens if we don’t even bother to understand their points of view. They need the system to empower them, to let them advocate for themselves whenever it’s possible, to feel in charge of their own lives. They need advice and counsel from people who know how to navigate the system, but who are willing to step into the background when their advice isn’t wanted. They need to be respected as small adults, if for no other reason than that any approach relating to them as children who don’t know what’s best for them will backfire. They’ll be running for the door to take their chances on the mean streets. At least on the streets they feel in charge of their own choices.

Of course, this is just one perspective on an extremely complex problem, and I’d be just begging for criticism if I pretended like I grasped the whole situation. I’m sure there’s more to it than what I’ve expressed here. But even that little piece of the puzzle – the independent streak that caused many of these teens to become homeless in the first place – isn’t adequately addressed by the petition’s weak wording. It’s not enough to have “more resources, more attention, and prioritization”. We have to put a plan in place that’s going to target homeless teenagers by appealing to the desire for independence instead of stripping them of their individual power. But Change.org has failed to call for that. In failing to be thoughtful about what it’s asking the government to do, it’s missed an opportunity to help find solutions and created a petition that, truthfully, has very little weight and is likely to encourage very little action on the problem even if its recipients take it seriously.

But on the other hand, what else can we expect? Change.org is a clearinghouse for social issues, and all you have to do to petition somebody is click “Start A Petition” and you’re there. There’s no requirement for thoughtful consideration of the issues. I wonder, how much can we really hope to accomplish by taking this approach? Not much, I suspect.

Maybe instead of petitioning to get “resources, attention, and prioritization” focusing on ending teen homelessness, we should take the issue to heart. Reach out to a homeless teen. Volunteer for a local organization. Or be there for young people who need trusted mentors so, when the time comes to assert independence, there’s at least one caring adult who can keep them from falling through the cracks.

Sometimes it’s the only way to make a difference. Sometimes Internet petitions signed by thousands just don’t go as far as the committed, caring actions of a single loving person.

First Communion for Five Hundred? Good Luck!

Just this past weekend, I watched the last batch of kids I helped catechize for First Communion finally step up to receive the sacrament for the first time. Pretty exciting! I knew each kid by name, and I knew a bit about them. And if they had doubts – like they needed somebody to remind them of the hand positions or they weren’t sure they really liked the taste of that odd Communion bread – they felt like they could talk to me. It was a really great set-up.

Then I read this article and wondered: how do you manage a First Communion class that’s five hundred strong?

Palo Alto children practice taking the Eucharist. Image courtesy of the Catholic Archdiocese of San Francisco.

Don’t get me wrong: I think it’s wonderful that so many kids are being initiated into this particular sacrament. I’m a huge fan of involving kids in religion – even if they leave the faith as adults or find that their beliefs are different, at least it gives them some familiarity with ritual and communication with a higher power, and it’s easier to abandon that if you stop believing than to get used to it if you decide you do believe.

It’s just, well, that’s a lot of kids. And the sheer numbers present a certain technical difficulty, don’t they? How do you find an interesting, engaging way to teach FIVE HUNDRED young people? At my church, we struggled to keep just forty kids engaged! With five hundred, you’re struggling just to get them all into the building!

I guess you’d have to start with a lot of volunteers. A LOT. Hopefully at least some of them would be very creative people who can use crafts, drama, and discussion to help make their points. If you break the kids down into groups, you’re more likely to be able to involve them in the exchange, which is key for holding their attention.

Crafts and take-home readings (preferably fun and amusing ones, with strong narrative elements) can also make it easier for parents to share ideas with their children and do some of the important reinforcing work that’ll be necessary to make sure the children really get a strong sense of what First Communion is all about. Our comparatively modest group of forty used take-home activities to get the kids involved in church life – things like collecting money for ShareLent or tracking their kind deeds by colouring panels on “stained-glass” crosses made from tracing paper.

Ultimately, in this case the best hope is for parents to get deeply involved in their children’s religious education. In a parish with five hundred First Communion candidates, you can’t rely on volunteers to educate the kids for you. It becomes your responsibility to keep your own kids interested and learning. Here are some strategies I noticed parents employing in our own First Communion sessions:

• Whisper encouragement. Talk to your child, reinforcing and repeating the group leader’s questions to make sure the child really thinks about the answer. In a large group, it’s tempting to let somebody else respond while you drift, but parents whispering softly can make sure their kids are really observing what’s being said, as long as they’re quiet enough not to disturb others.
• Do the homework. Most catechism programs will send home booklets with activities for kids. In our program, we didn’t set homework assignments; we left it up to parents to decide when (and whether) the booklets would be used. But using them really helps kids grasp the importance of the sacrament.
• Pitch in. When the kids’ crafts become a family project, it opens up the opportunity to talk about what the craft means. One family I know made a communal stained-glass cross so everybody’s good deeds counted toward the family’s decoration! The most successful craft projects allowed both parents and kids to participate side by side. Just don’t give in to the temptation to take over – I know your grown-up hands can probably cut straighter lines, paste more evenly, and colour more neatly, but that’s not the point of the activity!
• Go beyond. The catechists will provide some information for your family to work with, but there’s no law against being resourceful! Keep an eye out for age-appropriate books that talk about the sacrament or its history, either in bookstores or at your local library. Visit websites like CatholicMom.com for activities that match your child’s interests. And if your child has a question that you can’t answer, you don’t necessarily need to wait for the priest: hit the books (or the web) and investigate it together! (And if you find any really great activities, it would be a great courtesy to pass them on to your hard-working church volunteers.)
• Set an example. When kids see their parents at Mass, even if it seems like they’re not watching, they’re actually learning more than you realize about how to treat the service. They’ll pick up on the ritual bits – like when to kneel or how to hold the Eucharist – but more importantly, they’ll pick up on your attitude.

No matter what the setting, when you’ve got an audience of children numbering in the hundreds, it’ll take extra involvement to make the lesson stick. Volunteers would love to help, no doubt about it. But in a group that large, your child’s best hope is you.

Good luck!

Only Parents: The Thinking that Excludes the Childless from Love

As promised, here’s the lowdown on the post that ultimately galvanized me to start writing about my concerns and observations related to the lives of children.

See, I’ve been following the Catholic Church’s sex abuse scandal from time to time. I’m not reading voraciously, but I do check in every now and again. This isn’t a post about that particular scandal, though I’m sure you’ll hear from me on the subject sooner or later. But it was through that discussion that I encountered the following statement, in a memo written by a dad to the bishop of his archdiocese:

I have been blessed with the freedom (and, I believe, the obligation) to share daily with the President of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops a perspective to which he cannot relate. I can speak as a parent.

[. . .] Our children are more important to Sharon and me than anything in the world. With all due respect, though you probably come as close to understanding the significance of that statement as any bishop in the Church, you don’t. You can’t. No priest, no religious, no lay person who is not a parent can truly appreciate the incredible weight of that single sentence any more than I could before Erin was born.

I get what he’s trying to say with that statement: parents love their children to the extreme. I don’t deny that. Having primary responsibility for the upbringing and formation of a little human being is an awe-inspiring responsibility and a tremendous gift.

But it’s a little upsetting to think that the importance of children is a foreign concept to anybody who’s never been a parent.

First of all, there are plenty of parents out there who utterly fail to grasp the importance of their children’s futures, or of their own key role in the child’s upbringing. Similarly, there are plenty of good people out there who, in their capacity as non-parents, work hard to exert a powerful positive influence on children’s lives. To say that a non-parent just can’t possibly appreciate a child’s value to the same extent as a parent . . . well, it’s not fair. It unintentionally places abusive, neglectful, and self-centered parents above caregivers, teachers, social workers, medical staffers, and loving relatives who don’t have children of their own.I would argue that anybody who works with children on a regular basis absolutely understands the value and importance of a child, whether or not they’ve experienced biological parenthood.

I don’t mean to denigrate this particular dad’s love for his kids, or to put him down in any way. I just think it’s unfair for him to assume, because he couldn’t quite comprehend the weight of parental love before becoming a parent, that no person ever could, not until they’ve held their own birth child in their arms.

These people are giving their entire lives to help children with whom they have no biological connection, children whom they might never see again. There’s no selfish gene here, no biological pay-off, not even close family ties that encourage love. These are people who will treat anybody’s children as tenderly and lovingly as their own, knowing they can’t expect the child’s faithful filial love in return. They do it anyway, for the sake of the child.

Don’t tell somebody who’s made that her life’s mission that she can’t possibly understand the love of a parent.

That’s what made me want to start writing a blog about children from the perspective of somebody who loves them deeply without having any of her own. Theoretically, I suppose my attitude about children could make an absolute shift once I have my first baby. I don’t doubt that, once I do, my own child will seem more precious to me than every other child in the world combined. But this is an emotional, relational response. It just doesn’t have the altruistic beauty that goes with somebody’s unselfish efforts to heal, love, support, and teach a child who’s not their own.

We shouldn’t put that impulse down or act as if it lacks the value of biological parenthood. That kind of thinking leads to a tremendous burden on people who aren’t biological parents, and a tremendous amount of exclusion for childless people who want to share their lives with somebody else’s babies. I thank God for the mommies and daddies in my life who understand that level of exclusion and embrace my efforts to be involved with my nieces, nephews, and young students.

Because the truth is, children can never be loved too much.

Welcome to the Treehouse!

You can call me Sal.

I became Ciocia Salcia (which is Polish for “Aunt Sal”) on St. Patrick’s Day, 2009, when my first niece was born into the world. A week later, I’d become an auntie for the first time when my nephew was born. But my niece’s parents thought it was important for their girl to learn about all the different cultural backgrounds around her. So she has at least one of each of these: auntie (English), tita (Filipino), zia (Italian), tia (Portuguese), and ciocia (that’s me).

More things you may wish to know about me:

• I’m a huge fan of crafts, especially crafts for children. I love quilting, crochet, knitting, cross-stitching, embroidery, calligraphy, and scrapbooking. (Probably a few others I’ve forgotten as well!)
• I love cats, and am a proud kitty-mama to Melanie, a former stray from southwestern Ontario. I have a husband, too, but no babies – yet.
• I’m a Catholic, but the type that would probably be categorized “cafeteria”.
• I’m an avid cook, but probably less avid about nutrition, which I admit I’d like to work on before I have any kids of my own.
• I’m formally studying mindfulness-based stressed reduction, and informally interested in learning about psychology, astronomy, religious fundamentalism, evolution and intelligent design (as cultural phenomena more so than as scientific theories), and human psychology. Particularly, of course, as relates to children.
• I’m a librarian by training, a writer by aspiration, and a housewife in actual fact, and I’m working on my first hopefully-to-be-published novel, a supernatural thriller tentatively titled Scared Hearts.

Why did I decide I wanted to start this blog? You can read about my rationale in my vision statement. I’m also planning to make a post soon about the statement that galvanized me into action. But first I’ve got some things to do around the house, including a mindfulness meditation and (with luck) a short, sweet workout . . . so I’ll catch up with you later. In the meantime, have a little taste of what inspires me: my beautiful niece and nephew.

My niece on her first birthday

My nephew joining in the fun.